The Truth Only Sounds Different
by igniteXtheXairwaves
Summary: Have you never realized? Lying -- on so many levels, in so many ways, it is exactly like magic..." A series of short drabbles, each in the POV of a certain character, as they express their opinions on Fai -- his lies, his mystery, everything.


**The Truth Only Sounds Different**

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything -- CLAMP does.

**Author's Note: **So, this randomly came to me when I was fixing my hair in a mirror. My mind was wandering and suddenly, something in my head forged a connection between Fai's magical abilities and his flawlessly formed lies.

So then I decided I'd just write about how everyone sees Fai, whether they see his lies, etc.

The result? This chapter, some angsty Fai. Enjoy.

Oh, almost forgot! I literally wrote this in about ten minutes, and wanted to post it as soon as possible, so there may be mistakes, typos, things that don't make sense, etc. If so, please inform me so I can fix it! ^^

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Some will tell you lying is awful. That it's a sin. That it will turn all your friends away and break all your loved ones' hearts.

The unfortunate fact is -- they're right.

And I am a master liar. I am a liar on the same level as I am a magician -- my lies, my spells -- they come to me so easily, with such frightening simplicity.

Have you never realized? Lying -- on so many levels, in so many ways, it is exactly like magic. They both take an equal amount of sheer skill and tedious practice. I spin them both, intricate and my own, whether they are formed by my fingers or my mouth or my mind, and I take them and I _force_ them upon the world, force my reality -- my_ lies_ -- my magic -- out there, out there upon the world, the people, regardless of consequence or rationality or_ heart_.

And they drain me. Lies and magic, they drain the energy from me, from anyone, from humans in _general_, perhaps.

I have lied _so_ many times --

That --

I have lied so _much_, so _many_ times, that _I_ --

I can only _force_ myself. To _proceed_, to keep lying, continue tirelessly spinning that web of deception, that accursed trap in which I will one day inevitably ensnare myself _and_ my beloved ones.

Yes -- I am indeed just _that_ -- a master -- at the art of lying -- at the art of_ sinning_. The man with no friends. The man surrounded by broken hearts.

And the man who can never _mend_ those broken hearts.

Because an artist -- a_ true_ artist -- cannot yield in his creating. He cannot hesitate, cannot mourn, cannot _feel_. He comprehends only _his_ emotions, _his_ art, _his_ sins, his, his, _his_. And while those around him suffer -- of neglect, of loneliness, of _heartbreak_ -- he does nothing. _Nothing_. He only creates another masterpiece --

-- I only create another lie.

Make no mistake -- it is not as if I do not _care_. Rather, it is perhaps that I care _too much_.

I am all too aware of how little sense that makes. Let me _explain_, yes?

Imagine, then -- you are an artist -- a painter, perhaps, a very talented but very unheard of painter. You have a family, and you love that family. But there is a man -- a man who, a very, _very_ long time ago, when you were just a young child, cast a curse on you, and one day in the very near future, you will have to leave your family, suddenly and without warning.

You do not want to leave. You could_ never_ want to leave. But you have no choice, and you are completely aware of this fact. Therefore, you do all you can do -- you paint. You paint your heart out, and in no time the people, they're lining up outside your door. Everyone wants one of your paintings, and you sell them eagerly, and for the hefty price of gold coins and jewels. You pile the money up, save it up, save it for your precious family. So that, when the day finally comes when you are fated to leave them, they at least can live _well_. And you at least can continue your life in peace, content in the knowledge that you did all that you could.

Well -- do you understand now?

I didn't suppose you would. In all honesty, that _touching_ little story sounded much more convincing in my head. Once outside, floating around in the air --

I suppose it's just _much _less like my _own _situation than I initially thought.

For, as I have told you, I am an artist, also, and the most sinful of artists, at that -- I excel in the art of _lies_. I have a family, and I love that family. But there is a man -- a man who, a very, _very_ long time ago, when I was just a young boy, cast a curse on me, and one day in the very near future, I will have to betray my family, suddenly and without warning.

I do not want to do it. I could never want to do it. But I have no choice, and I am completely aware of this fact. Therefore, I do all I can do -- I lie. I lie my heart out, and in no time, my family, the people, they're lining up outside my door. Everyone wants one of my lies, one of my smiles, and I shell them out eagerly, and for the hefty price of distance and belief. I pile the distance, the belief, up, save them up, save them for my precious family. So that, when the day finally comes when I am fated to betray them, they at least can know, finally, in that last moment, that I had lied. And I at least can end it all there, content in the knowledge that, right up until the end --

-- _they were fooled._

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**Author's Note: **So, there you have it. ^^

If anyone knows where this fic's title comes from, I will be very impressed. ;D

Anyway -- please review! ^^ I'd love to know what you think of this.

Next chapter is Kuro-pu's opinion of Fai's lying habit -- excuse me, _art._

I'm sure he'll be very _civilized._


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